


well, now you’re just asking for trouble

by goldengalaxies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Pansy Parkinson, BAMF Harry Potter, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Harry is a mess, Long Shot, Marauders, Multi, Mystery, POV Alternating, POV Harry Potter, POV Hermione Granger, POV Pansy Parkinson, Plot, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Smart Harry Potter, Time Travel, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, eventual pansmione, original order of the phoenix characters, this is gonna be long i can feel it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengalaxies/pseuds/goldengalaxies
Summary: “Granger, what the fuck is going on? Why are we running?” Parkinson screams at the top of her lungs.Harry is thinking similar questions right now. Why are they running? They work here- it’s not as though anyone would think they killed that unspeakable. He wants to just stop for a second and explain to someone but he can’t see anyone that he recognises.Why can’t he see anyone he recognises?(harry, hermione & pansy time travel to 1979.)





	1. -1999, January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set about 8 ish months after the battle of hogwarts & harry, ron and pansy have started training to be aurors. hermione is an unspeakable. 
> 
> if there’s anything else that i haven’t explained pls let me know in the comments! ;)

Harry steps warily through the door, his wand held outstretched lighting the way with a simple _lumos_. He scans the hallway before realising there’s no one there, and drops his fighting stance into a more relaxed position. He can’t help but keep a tight grip on his wand though, his knuckles straining so hard that they turn white. Maybe it was a mistake to come back so soon. He can’t help but feel anxious, the familiar stance making him feel as if he were back on battlegrounds- even if he knew he wasn’t. 

He sighs at his rapidly deteriorating train of thought; for now he _just_ needs to focus. He can regret his decisions when this is over.

As they get closer to the centre of the building they slow their pace, moving more cautiously, their footsteps muffled with a wave of a wand. A sudden scuffle pulls their attention towards an open door at the end of the corridor. Harry momentarily flounders, almost dropping his wand as he jumps at the noise.

This is harder than he thought it would be. After sitting on his arse for 7 months, his skills were unpolished and clumsy. He’s always had good reflexes, but it doesn’t seem to be enough in this situation. It takes him numerous seconds to get his bearings, unlike his partner who has already shot a stunning spell in the direction of the noise.

When nothing else moves for a second they move forwards, wands held out front, ready for an attack. It’s only a beat of silence before Parkinson speaks up. “Should we look into that or go back the other way?”

Harry considers this thought for a moment, eyeing the now-empty doorway. “Let’s just go back the way we were supposed to go. But keep your guard up.”

She shrugs, looking as if she couldn’t care less. “Whatever, I suppose you’d know best.”

He’s not sure if it’s supposed to be a jab or if she actually means it to be supportive, but he decides not to acknowledge it either way, knowing she’s right. His instincts got him this far. If he can defeat Voldemort, he can do a simple test.

They turn back, Harry still watching their backs for any movement from the area of the noise. Making their way to their previous positions, Parkinson takes out the details they had been given.

“We’ve been told there are four hostages in the main office. We need to go there as soon as possible.” He just nods in agreement so, pointing at a hallway he can just make out, she continues on. “Let’s cut through the sports department, it’s the quickest way to the ministers office.”

A plan in place, they pick up the pace, running across the room, towards the sign that reads ‘wizard sporting department’. It takes them mere minutes to reach the ministers office. Parkinson is the quicker runner and reaches it first, Harry almost slamming into her as she comes to a sudden stop. She throws her hand up, gesturing for him to wait and they both listen at the door for a sound.

Harry frowns at the silence. For a room that supposedly holds four hostages, it’s suspiciously silent. You’d think they’d make it a little more authentic. Parkinson looks at him almost expectantly, but he just shrugs at her. She sighs heavily, as if she can’t quite believe how useless he is.

Listen, Harry was only smart when his life was in danger, okay? It was his weirdly specific talent. As soon as someone throws a curse, he’s good to go. But before the fighting starts? Utterly _hopeless_. Harry suddenly realises that it’s probably because Hermione used to do all the planning for him.

“Potter.” Parkinson whispers, snapping a perfectly manicured finger in his face to get his attention. Harry blinks, pulling himself out of his own thoughts. He figures that the only solid plan is to just charge in and fight their way though whatever is on the other side of the door. It’s a tactic that’s kept him alive for eighteen years, and Hermione isn’t here to give any better ideas.

He motions to the door and then mimes breaking the door and a few fighting motions. It’s not exactly clear but Parkinson seems to get what he means, despite the judgemental look she throws him.

He rolls his eyes at her (it got the message across didn’t it?) and holds his wand up in preparation. She also lifts up her wand, which she holds confidently, before swinging her arm back in a slashing moment. “ _Bombarda!_ ”

The door shatters into pieces, exploding into all directions. Harry throws up a shield on instinct, and the wood bounces off of them. His heart beats rapidly, and nausea swells in his chest.

The unexpected backlash from the spell dregs up a sludge of memories that he’d thought he’d finally stamped down, after seven months. He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut as the memories fight for his attention- scenes he’s already lived through playing in a loop through his mind. 

He’s seen these scenes more times than he cares to remember- in nightmares and daydreams alike. He thinks he hears a scream- indecipherable- of a name? It could be a spell. He’s not sure.

A flick of his wand sends all of the debris to the floor, which until now was suspended in the air, caught in the shield he conjured. He steps into the office with his wand raised high, aiming at the four ‘hostages’. The four other aurors look up at them from their seats on the floor.

“Alright, mate.” Ron cheers with a wide grin, stretching as he stands. “That was even quicker than Boot and Goldstein.” 

Harry returns his grin, suddenly glad to see his bestfriend. 

“Still took bloody ages.” Seamus doesn’t seem to care and groans. He cracks his neck, wringing his body out. “It’s fucking boring being the hostages.”

Pansy sends him a scathing look. “Better than what you could do, Finnegan.”

Harry sighs internally. Can’t they have one conversation without arguing?

Harry doesn’t especially like Parkinson, but Hermione was right- it was time to let go of the petty school bullshit.

Although, he didn’t agree that everyone had earned complete forgiveness. Parkinson seemed to be decent enough, but it _was_ only nine months ago that she had tried to give him up to Voldemort. He couldn’t, wouldn’t forget _that_ as easily. But it didn’t matter, it was work and personal feelings aside, he didn’t have any feelings, whether good or bad, concerning Parkinson. 

“Fuck off.” Seamus makes a crude hand gesture to her, clearly not on the same wavelength as Harry. 

“Language.” The voice of the Head Auror, Chief Donovich, comes from the ceiling, causing them all to jump in surprise. Seamus makes a face at the reprimand but doesn’t argue.

“Great job, Potter, Parkinson.” Donovich turns his attention to the partners. Parkinson turns a smug look to Seamus, who rolls his eyes sourly in retaliation. 

Harry’s eyes scan the room before coming across a small white circle stuck to the wall. He guesses that’s how Donovich can communicate with them. He nods at the circle, knowing Donovich can see him. As soon as he acknowledges it, it flashes, disappearing before his eyes. Idly, he wonders how many there are dotted around the ministry if Donovich had seen enough to judge their performance.

Silence reigns for a second, before they all realise he’s gone. 

“Thank Merlin that’s all over, I’m bloody _starving_.” Ron groans, clapping Harry on the back and slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry snorts. “Ron, you’re always starving.” 

Now that the test is done, he can go have lunch, which his stomach seems to realise when it rumbles loudly. Seamus chuckles at the noise, before he ambles off with the other two aurors- they’re all keen to get out of there.

“Come on, mate.” Ron says. “Let’s go before that asshole Boot gets all the good chicken.”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, okay. Just give me a second to clear up, I’ll be right behind you.” Ron nods, before walking after Seamus.

Harry flicks his wand at the door. “ _Reparo_.” The pieces fly up in unison to fit as the wood knits itself back together. Parkinson doesn’t help, but does wait for him too finish (which he guesses is something), hopping up onto the desk. Her long robes swish around her feet, but the hem picks up slightly, revealing a pair of spiky black stilettos.

“You were wearing _heels_ through out that whole practise?” Harry blurts suddenly- half baffled and half impressed. How the fuck did she stay upright?

She raises a brow cooly, opening her mouth to reply when a loud crash sounds from outside the office.

His wand is immediately brought up into fighting stance. The sound is similar to how a curse sounds, so his reflexes kicking in involuntarily. They wait for a moment, listening carefully for any sign of movement.

Just as Harry is about to relax, Hermione bursts into the office, another unspeakable at her back. “Harry?”

“Hermione?” Harry asks in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She ignores him. “Thank Merlin you’re still here. Harry, Parkinson, we need to go. Now.”

He gapes at her for a second before nodding. “Okay.” He doesn’t have a clue what is happening here, but he trusts Hermione with his life.

Parkinson doesn’t share his sentiment. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking too, Granger, but you can’t just order me around like a little lapdog.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain. Come on, I’ll explain later.” Hermione seems almost desperate, which sends Harry into an internal panic, all of his alarm bells ringing. 

The unspeakable behind her makes an impatient noise, spurring Hermione on. “Come _on_.” 

Harry turns, not waiting to see if Parkinson follows and-

The office explodes.

* * *

Harry wakes suddenly, shooting up into a seated postiton. His ears ring and he fumbles around for a second at the ground around him, feeling for his glasses. He finds them quickly, sliding them onto his nose.

What the fuck just happened? He can’t have been out for more than a minute, but he rubs his head, trying to remember anything.

The explosion. Hermione came in and-

 _Hermione_. He turns searching for her wildly, and sighs a breath of relief when he spies her unconscious form lying inches from him. Parkinson is next to her as well, her legs are strewn over Hermione’s midriff, so he crawls over towards them. They both look relatively unharmed but he can’t stop the beat of his heart as it shutters into overdrive. It pulses in his throat, making his neck feel thick and tight. It’s suddenly very hard to breathe.

He shakes Hermione frantically, causing her to shoot upright immediately, knocking her head into his.

“Oh, sorry!” She exclaims loudly, holding her hands up, reaching out to touch his already bleeding nose. A frown covers her face as the memories come back to her suddenly and she stands quickly, knocking Parkinson’s legs to the floor. Parkinson wakes at this, her eyes opening slowly. She groans in pain and Harry realises there’s a large bruise already forming along her cheekbone. He winces in sympathy.

“What happened?” Parkinson says blearily.

Hermione ignores her and just looks around the room questioningly. “Where’s-?“ She trails off suddenly as their gazes land to the other unspeakable who is crumpled in a heap by the door. Harry immediately sees a large pool of blood that is slicked down the wall. 

“Oh my God.” Hermione’s voice crackles, as she reaches out towards the older woman. “Alis.”

Harry gets up off the floor, and Parkinson copies his action. Dust and dirt fall out of his auror robes as he stands. He shakes out his hair, but he knows it’s hopeless- his knots hold literally _everything_ they touch. He reaches out to gently grab hols of Hermione’s wrist, realising that it is the unspeakable’s _body_ that lays there, cold, breathless and unmoving. 

It’s silent for a beat before Parkinson speaks. “Can someone tell me what’s going on? What the hell just happened? And why the office fine when there was a fucking explosion?”

Harry looks around, for the first time taking in his surroundings. He doesn’t understand it, but she’s right. It looks even cleaner than before they got blown up. Maybe it was some sort of spell? He looks at Hermione for answers.

“Oh, God.” Hermione whispers, a glazed look in her eyes. “It really happened.”

“What?” Harry asks. “Hermione what are you talking about?”

“Shit!” She swears to herself.

“What?” Pansy looks ready to pull her hair out from the lack of answers and, for once, Harry feels like he’s on the same page as her. Hermione just puts her head in her hands and groans quietly.

The door opens a second later, and they all turn their wands on the door to face a young looking woman in long, expensive looking robes.

Before she has time to react, the unspeakable’s body falls to the floor with a thump, landing just next to the woman’s feet. She lets out a terrified scream.

“We need to go.” Hermione pushes past the woman, who yells again in fright. Harry can hear people start coming towards the office and decides that Hermione has the right idea. He follows her blindly, checking behind him to see Parkinson run after them both.

They crash into numerous people on their way through the ministry and soon they’re all sprinting, with about twenty witches and wizards shooting spells at them. He turns back quickly to check how close the people are, speeding up when one especially fast witch almost grabs hold of his robes.

“Granger, what the fuck is going on? Why are we running?” Parkinson screams at the top of her lungs, trying to be heard over the noise. Hermione doesn’t seem to hear her.

Harry is thinking similar questions right now. Why _are_ they running? They work here- it’s not as though anyone would think they killed that unspeakable. He wants to just stop for a second and explain to someone but he can’t see anyone that he recognises. Why doesn’t he recognise anyone?

Harry’s lungs are burning by the time they make it to the centre and he almost crashes into the Fountain of Magical Brethren as they make a sharp left towards the floo stations.

“Hermione!” Harry yells, but his shout goes unanswered as she keeps on running. People are giving them a wide berth as they sprint towards one of the fireplaces, reminding Harry of when they broke into the ministry last year.

A stunning spell whizzes past his ear and he ducks violently, almost crashing into Parkinson, who swerves away from him, cursing.

Hermione slows for a second, grabbing hold of Harry’s hand and Parkinson’s wrist, before she sprints into the floo powder, dragging them with her. As soon as they touch the green flames she shouts. “The forest of Dean!”

Harry doesn’t even have a second to think about the choice of place, before they’re swept up in the floo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i hope u liked it. i really do not have a clue where i’m going with this fic so it’s just kinda random at the moment. also, if the characters are a bit ooc i’m sorry i’ve only ever written a drabble for hp before :)
> 
> anyways, please leave kudos & comments if u enjoyed it means the world to me!!
> 
> +note, i have not edited this yet and i wrote it in random chunks over the last couple days so things might contradict or not make sense. if u could let me know about anything u see i would really appreciate it :)
> 
> +note 2, i just wanted to add that i have nothing against ron (i acc really love him) but idk. i just couldn’t see him being too much in this fic but he’ll probs be in it later?


	2. -1979, January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright lads, heres chapter 2, lets rock and roll

Pansy gasps for breath as she topples forwards, flying through the air. Her hands spring out automatically to balance herself. Luckily, she manages to land on her feet, unlike Potter and Granger who both topple face first into the grass. 

She let's out an annoyed groan as her stilettos sink into think mud. Looking up to see a thicket of trees and shrubbery surrounding them, Pansy’s heart beats furiously in her chest. 

Granger brought them to a forest? 

“Harry?” Granger shakes Potter’s shoulder roughly. He mumbles incoherently, before pushing himself up and standing shakily. 

He touches hesitantly at his nose, which is still bleeding profusely. Granger makes a sympathetic tsk sound, and grabs a tissue from her a pocket inside her robe. He takes it, seemingly amused by something.

What is going on?

“You didn’t get splinched did you?” She asks him finally, her eyes scanning his body in a nervous fashion.

When Potter shakes his head to the affirmative, Granger visibly relaxes for a second, before she looks around. She seems glad to see where they are, which only fuels Pansy’s anger. 

“Granger, would you care to explain what the fuck just happened?” Pansy can’t help but lash out, a sarcastic, snarky tone to her voice. ”Also, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really like to know where the hell we are.” 

Granger flinches slightly but Pansy is too irritated to care; even though her mother would likely have forty fits if she could see Pansy’s manners right now. 

Whatever, she didn’t agree to be involved in whatever trouble Potter’s got himself into now. Granger and Weasley might be okay with constantly being dragged into trouble, but Pansy is not Potter’s friend and she certainly doesn’t care for adventures. 

“Hermione?” Potter prompts. “Why are we here again?”

Again? What? Why are they here at all? Where were they? Personally, Pansy thinks that’s the most pressing question.

Granger just waves a hand at him, as if that explains anything. 

“What?” Pansy asks, which they both ignore. She sighs, realising she’s probably not going to get any straight answers for a while. 

Great. Just fucking wonderful. Why was her luck so sodding rubbish?

“We needed to get away.” Granger finally answers, after several moments of pause. 

Potter looks at Granger consideringly. “Is this to with what you said in the office?” The both look at him blankly, so he explains. “You said ‘it happened’ or something like that.” 

Pansy is thrown by Potter’s sudden observant nature. Granger seems to be mildly surprised too. Potter seems to realise this and folds his arms, a grumpy look on his face. “I pay attention.” He says, a defensive note in his voice. 

Pansy doesn’t know what to say to that, so stays out of the conversation. 

Granger puts her face in her hands momentarily, before she straightens up. “Okay. I’ll explain, but it’s going to be the short version, meaning you probably won’t even believe me, because- I mean- it sounds bloody mental, even to me. And I’m pretty sure it’s true. I mean, pretty sure isn’t exactly what we need right now, but we can find out the answer pretty easily, it’s just-“

“Hermione, stop, you’re babbling.” Potter says, gently touching her arm. His brows are furrowed, in what seems to be confusion or concern, Pansy can’t quite make out which. Probably both. 

She’s panicking, and it’s making Pansy anxious. Granger is supposed to be an unspeakable- they’re famous their ability to remain unshaken by anything. 

“Just breathe, Mione.” Potter says.

Granger settles slightly, but when she lifts her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears, Pansy notices that her hands are trembling. 

“What is it?” Pansy breaks the silence. She almost feels guilty for pushing Granger to answer when she is so clearly struggling, but Pansy needs answers. 

”Do you know who that woman was?” 

Whatever Pansy was expecting Granger to say, this wasn’t it. She lets out an infuriated breath. ”Are you joking, Granger? Who bloody cares-” 

“I think we’ve time travelled.” 

Silence. 

Pansy doesn’t know how to feel. She’s still as confused as before, if not more. All that fuss over a bit of time travel? 

How did they travel without a time turner? Why did that unspeakable die when they travelled? How far did they travel to? Why was there an explosion? The questions swirl in her head, and it throbs under the strain.

How did that explain anything?

“That woman was Millicent Bagnold.” 

The old minister of magic? Pansy stares at her, using her perfected expression that always conveys the message of are-you-stupid? “You’ve lost it, Granger. Honestly.” 

Potter, on the other hand, looks utterly lost. ”Who’s Millicent Bagold?” 

“Bagnold.” Hermione corrects. “She was the minister of magic from 1980 to 1990.”

”Are you actually delusional, Granger? It was probably her granddaughter, you know.” Pansy rolls her eyes. ”You don’t have to jump to the conclusion that we’ve bloody time travelled because someone looks like the old prime minister.” Pansy can’t quite believe someone as brilliantly intelligent as Granger is being so utterly illogical. 

Time travel in general, she can believe. Time travel to the 1980s? Not a chance.

Pansy glances at Potter, wondering if this is all some sort of sick joke.

Potter is swaying where he stands, his face drained of colour. He seems to believe Granger, for some reason. 

Pansy, personally, thinks a trip to St Mungos would do Granger a world of good right now. 

”I’m not jumping to conclusions-” Granger rebukes.

”You saw someone who looked like the old prime minister and thought, oh lets run out of the ministry and to this random bloody forest, instead of simply trying to get help for your colleague, like you should have done.” 

Granger jerks back, her eyes glossing over. Her lips are tightened angrily. “Alis-“ She chokes on the name. “She was already dead. There was nothing we could have done.” 

Pansy feels uncomfortable looking at Grangers wet eyes, but can’t quite bring herself to feel regretful over her words. Someone needs to put a stop to this nonsense. “Still. Time travel.” She raises a disbelieving brow. “Really, Granger?“

”If you would just listen-” 

”I don’t need to listen to know you’ve gone fucking nuts!” 

Granger makes an offended noise. “Excuse me?” 

”I believe you heard me the first time.” Pansy’s patience has worn thin. She lets out an impatient sigh. “And I thought you were the smart one.” She scoffs.

Granger’s lips purse so tightly they almost disappear. ”Will you just listen-”

”Will you two stop arguing?” Potter shouts. ”Merlin.” He rubs his forehead. He turns to Granger. “Mione, you have to admit, it’s a little difficult to believe that we time travelled to the 1980s.” 

“Fine. Let’s go somewhere. Surely there’ll be a paper there with proof of the date.” She frowns thoughtfully. “Besides, we’ll need somewhere to stay and we’ll need to buy some new clothes. I’m sure the ministry has people looking for us all.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you two. Whatever is going on, I did not agree to be a part of it. I’m going home.” This can’t be true. Time travel isn’t possible without a time turner, especially when travelling twenty years to the past. Pansy doesn’t understand what is happening here, and isn’t going to act like she does, but isn’t going to pretend that she cares, either.

“No! Parkinson, we need to stick together.”

Ignoring Granger’s protests with ease, Pansy lifts her heels out of the mud, trying to balance herself before she pulls out her wand.

“What are you doing?” Potter asks.

Pansy squares her shoulders. “I’m going home.” She begins to move her wand and thinks of her home. 

“No!” Granger latches onto her arm just as the spell takes hold and suddenly they’re both falling. Falling until her feet meet the ground, landing on the lawn outside her house. Granger is still attached to her bicep, nails digging in, holding on tight enough to leave a bruise. 

Pansy’s temper flares mutinously and she shakes her arm irritably to get Granger’s grip to loosen. “What is wrong with you, Granger?” She shouts. “Seriously, this is my house. Whatever you and Potter are doing, I would appreciate it if you’d just leave me out of it!” And with that, Pansy swirls around, before storming away. 

Striding up the pathway, she chooses to ignore Granger’s protests despite the sudden doubtful feeling that sticks in her throat like bile. Her house looks different somehow. The lawn around it is blooming with colour, which hasn’t been the case for quite some months- Pansy hasn’t exactly got a knack for gardening and she doesn’t like to keep house elves. The house itself is mostly the same, only slightly whiter and less grubby. The grey strip where the paint had peeled away is now covered with pristine white paint. 

What if Granger isn’t crazy after all? 

She shakes herself, suddenly. She can’t let herself believe that rubbish, no matter how earnest Granger seemed. Blaise had been complaining about the state of her house for months, he probably got tired of waiting and did some quick spells himself. This didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. 

“Alohamora.” Pansy waves her wand at the door, having no keys. The door swings open, and the alarm begins to wail loudly, as it always does when she uses a spell to open the door- an extra safety precaution. Not that many wizards or witches can get past the wards to apperate onto the ground, however the Parkinson’s have always been a suspicious bunch. 

“Parkinson.” Granger is suddenly at her side, shouting over the noise of the alarm. Her hands are covering her ears but a grimace still covers her face. 

“Why are you still here?” Pansy turns away and pricks her thumb on the magical pad to give proof of her Parkinson heritage, beginning to input the passcode. 

Before she has time to input even the second number, she’s suddenly being thrown back by a stunning spell. Her back hits the wall and she arches her back, struggling to breathe. 

“Oh my God!” She hears Granger shout.

It takes several moments for her to be able to even lift her head as she writhes. A flash of red whizzes past her, forcing her into action. She needs to get up, and now. 

She looks up to her attacker is at the top of the stairs. The face is oddly familiar and for a second she can’t place it. It clicks a second later. It’s her father. 

He’s alive.

At first glance, she thinks it’s his portrait moving on the staircase. But, as her vision clears properly and she gets up, she can see it’s really him. Standing on the top of the stairs, his wand pointed directly at her. 

At second glance, she considers the idea that he might be a ghost; but that thought is dismissed easily by taking one look at him. His hair is as dark and black as hers and his skin is wrinkle-free and deeply tanned. His cheeks are pink with exertion and anger, only adding to how truly alive he looks. 

She feels sick to her stomach. 

“Stupify!” He shouts, tossing another spell in her direction. She ducks just in time, her shock making her slow and confused. 

“Come on!” Granger grabs her hand and pulls her out the door.

Pansy stumbles as Granger drags her across the lawn. Her clumsiness is a mixture of the lasting effects of the stunner only beginning to wear off, and her utter shock. 

Granger was right. She was telling the truth. They time travelled. To the 1980s. Her parents are still alive. 

Her parents are alive. Embarrassingly enough, tears fill her eyes and her face crumples, but she can’t stop running. Her parents are still alive, and even though she desperately wants to, she knows she can’t go back. 

What would she even say? To them, she’s the woman who broke into their house, and telling them would make it into an even bigger mess than everything already is. 

So she carries on running, tears streaming down her face.

Granger pulls out her wand and, still holding Pansy’s hand, she apperates them both out of there. 

*

They land in the forest, once again, with a pop sound. Potter lets out a high pitched screech that, five minutes ago, would have had Pansy screaming with laughter. 

Granger laughs for her. “Sorry, Harry.”

“Hermione!” Potter says, sounding relived, only just realising who it was. 

Pansy tuns away from them both, discreetly wiping her eyes. Despite her dire straits, she won’t be made to look like a weak little fool in front of the others. They were her only allies, and she had to keep some semblance of control over how they saw her. She wouldn’t let them take advantage of her. 

“What happened to you two?” Potter asks, referencing to Pansy’s forehead. She reaches up self-consciously and only now, realises that her forehead is bleeding. She realises that she must have cut it when she fell. 

“We went to Parkinson’s house.” Granger says. “We ran into-“ She trails off uncertainly.

“My father.” Her voice cracks, despite furious attempts to control herself. “It’s true, Potter. Granger’s telling the truth. It’s all true.”

“Seriously?” Potter turns to Granger, who nods gravely. 

“Alright, no big deal.” Potter is obviously lying, but, noting how hard his hands are shaking, Pansy doesn’t have it in her to argue. “It’s fine.” 

Fine. Pansy swallowed her nausea. They were about as far away from fine as they possibly could be. 

Her parents were alive. She hadn’t even been born. Pansy probably hadn’t even been conceived by this point. It was utterly insane. She felt unhinged. Was it possible this was all a disturbed dream? She pinched herself. 

Nope. Apparently this was really happening. 

But how? Why? Nothing made sense. 

How did it something like this even happen? Pansy wasn’t sure it had been an accident, the explosion had made that perfectly clear. But how would someone go about making that happen? As far as she knew, it was possible to travel about 5 days in the past, and no one had ever dared going to the future. 

And why? 

Although, she can probably guess the reason. Her eyes slide to Potter, narrowing slightly, unable to keep the accusation from penetrating her gaze. He had an abundance of enemies, even after the Dark Lord had been defeated. Former death eaters, people who had lost family in the resulting war, jealous morons who wanted his fame and glory; they all had a grudge against Potter. 

Looking at him now, she feels oddly sympathetic. It’s an odd feeling, one that she doesn’t feel that often, as, admittedly, she isn’t the most caring person out there. But, faced with that miserable, exhausted face, it was hard to hate him. She wonders if he knew how many enemies he still had. 

“Let’s just go back to the ministry and explain what happened.” Potter suggests at last. “They’ll help us.”

Pansy nods slowly, not seeing any other option. Potter notices and looks slightly more hopeful than he had a few seconds ago. Granger, however, looks unconvinced. 

“We were caught in the ministers office with a dead body. Diagon Alley is probably our best choice. We can easily find a paper to get the date, and we’ll need access to both muggle and magic shops.” Granger counters. “We can’t go back there after what happened, they won’t be dawdling around to answer our questions.” 

“Wait- wait, hold up a second, Mione.” Potter interrupts suddenly. “What I still don’t get is why you and the other unspeakable came to us at all.” 

“You told me.” 

”What?”

”I’m sorry?” 

”I knew it was going to happen because since 1979, there has been an unopened letter sitting in the room of records addressed to me. From you two. I only got given it yesterday.”

For once, Pansy doesn’t even try to disguise her shock and gapes openly.

Potter is the first to gather his wits. ”What did it say?”

”It just said, ’Get us out of the minister’s office before it happens. January 10th.’ with your signature-“ She nodded to Potter. “-at the bottom.” 

“What? But why would I bother sending that if I knew it wasn’t going to work?” Potter says. “Clearly, it’s going to happen in what is now our future, so I would already know that Hermione’s with us and that she failed to stop the time travel.” He looks at the both of them. “Right?”

They stare back. Pansy is shocked at how smart Potter actually is. Out of all of them, he’s the one making the most sense at the moment, which Pansy feels embarrassed to admit. Blaise and Draco would probably piss themselves if they could see her now. 

Granger rubs her temple. “I don’t know.” 

“But what if, because I think it’s already failed this time, I don’t actually send the letter in this future and you never come. So in that potential alternate future I would send the letter because... you wouldn’t be here?” He phrases it like a question.

Granger looks baffled, and Pansy can’t claim to be following him anymore than she is. “Right.”

“And, what if I’m only sending it in the first place, because I think I’ve already sent it?” Potter adds. He pulls his hair, before swiping his face tiredly. “Bloody hell, my head is pounding.” 

“Maybe you should just send the letter anyway. People back home will notice we’ve gone missing and the letter is still on my desk back at the office.” Hermione says, taking a moment to tuck her curls behind her ears before continuing. “And, if Tilda’s nosiness can be relied upon, it should be found relatively soon in the future timeline.” 

Potter cracks a smile, finally getting rid of that terribly upset face that had had Pansy feeling uncomfortably pitying. “Right, well for all our sakes, lets hope that Tilda is as much a nosy bastard as you say she is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was originally a lot longer but parts of the last bit were still unfinished so i kinda just thought i’d give you something and post the rest later, hopefully it should be up soon :) still not completely happy with it, but i hope y’all enjoyed :)
> 
> comments and kudos are very much appreciated, thanks for reading :)))))


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